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by Deadriot



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 18:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13059393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadriot/pseuds/Deadriot
Summary: Just something





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Dr. John H. Watson was beyond tired. The day at the practice had been tediously filled with people that either had the seasonal flu or were hypochondriacs thinking Death was upon them. His co-workers were of no help in these times. They were equally busy and preoccupied with trying to keep small kids from bawling and crying at the expense of their mother.

In short, Dr. John H. Warson hated the Winter Holidays more than any other time of the year.

Sherlock had been sitting on the sofa with his laptop precariously balanced on his knee, the telly was on rambling on about something or other, he just couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to what was being said. As he heard the door opening downstairs and John’s footsteps on the stairs, he knew it had been a long day. One does not need to be Sherlock Holmes to know when their significant other has been burdened by work and are weary from it.

As the door opened, he raised his head to see John coming through the door and drop his jacket on the nearest surface. He gave him a small smile as he placed his laptop on the table and made his way to the kitchen. Had anyone told him he was going to be living and enjoying a domestic life a couple of years ago, he would have laughed and sent whoever said it to a mental institution; truth was that he rather enjoyed doing small things for John.

Cooking was out of the question, but he opened the fridge and grabbed last night’s leftovers and a beer for John. He himself hated the bitter drink, but he knew that it was what John needed now. That, and the warmth from the hearth.

After making John sit in his armchair, he made his way to place the leftover into the microwave. He could feel John’s eyes on him as he moved about in the kitchen getting the plate and cutlery for dinner. It wasn’t much, but he knew how to make his significant other happy. He was surprised when he felt John’s head on his back and his hands resting on his hips.

‘Miss me?’

‘You have no idea.’

He turned around to face John. These were his favourite kisses, there was love and devotion rather than hunger. It was as if time stopped for them and they could just relax in the moment and bask each other’s warmth.


End file.
